Losing Track
by Lesprit-de-escalier
Summary: After a mission gone wrong, can Jake find his partner before anything bad happens? This takes place in a "Hitman" AU, more specifically, Hitmanstuck, headed by blackoutballad on tumblr.


Walking down dark, damp alleyways never bothered you much before. It was your job, your living, your career. You're a fearless type of guy, and you get a kick out of exploring the desolate streets of the city in search of your next target.

"Where are you, ol chap…"

Your name is Jake English, you lost your partner during your recent endeavors, and you're feeling really goddamn bad about it.

You've been searching for hours now, worried about this boy's welfare. Your current target is a small offset faction of three men, working for a powerful mobster. It isn't an especially difficult bunch of brutes to take down together, but you're worried because they have guns. A lot of them. Melee isn't exactly the method of extermination one would make in that situation.

Speaking of melee, that is your partner's preferred means of eradication. As of late, you've grown quite the unhealthy attachment to him and you are really starting to miss his goofy jokes, his goofy smile and his goofy sense of optimism. While you're busy being hardboiled and focused, this boy is always by your side, making you smile and derailing your train of thought indefinitely. There's just something about him that you wish you had in yourself, and dagnabbit if you don't want to just kick yourself for losing track of him.

Feeling along the cold brick walls of an abandoned department store, you search aimlessly for any sort of support. Maybe a railing, a ledge, anything to keep you from falling over. Your stomach is turning, and you decide to sit down for a while before continuing your search.

It was a day just like this one, when you were first assigned this boy as your partner; cloudy, dreary, and bleak. Not a spot of color in the sky.

_He first came bounding up to you, very much eager to learn your name and your preferred method of slaughter. You showed him your two pistols, and at the very same time, you also thought it would be a good idea to mess around and try out that silly trademark move you've developed: The Double Pistols and a Wink. Needless to say, he laughed in your face. But the laugh rang echoes through your ears, forming an endearing attachment to your heart right then and there. _

_After the boy snatched the first contract of your partnership out of your hands, studying it religiously for the next couple of minutes with his enormous hammer propped up on his shoulder, Dirk made his way to your side, as cool as ever._

_He muttered softly, "So."_

"_So?" You try to look past his pointed shades to read his face, to no avail._

"_What do you think of him?"_

"…_Hes a charming fellow, i suppose. Perhaps hell hold his own in a small scrimmage!"_

You look back on that day fondly. You miss that determined look in his eyes when he knows we're close to a target, that saddened look he's got when he sees we've lost one (although that hardly ever happens, and I mean hardly!). You miss the way he falls asleep easily after a long stakeout, the way he talks endlessly about Mister Nic Cage and his impeccable films and his ruffian, manly appeal. You even miss all the gosh darned pranks he pulls on you when you're back at headquarters, waiting for your coffee to warm up.

Sighing heavily, you drag yourself up from the ground and continue on your way. You'll have to search a bit more relentlessly than you have been, if you want to find him soon.

"Well i better get a move—oh dear. This wont do at all."

Hearing an empty click in the middle of reloading, you notice you only had one more clip on your person. You knew there was a weaponry shop nearby and so you headed down that way with a hurried pace.

You enter the shop with gusto, eager to get a move on already. You've wasted enough time daydreaming and dilly-dallying on your caboose all day! You request a typical cartridge of 9mm Luger 115 gr. ammunition. FMJ, of course. You thank the cashier, toss down your cash, and stow away your ammo in a jiffy.

Upon leaving, you are stopped by the impressive array of weapons along the shop's walls and in the glass cases. Selections of all sorts of shotguns, automatics, hand guns and archery tools, set up rather pretty present themselves to you. You're sure if your partner were here, he'd enjoy looking around the shop a bit more, if only to look at all the "big guns."

You wander listlessly out the shop's doors, head down, clearly not paying attention to where you're going. That being the case, of course you—

_THUD_

You land hard on the ground, dropping your newly purchased cartridge. You've also just lost your glasses somewhere, and you were now as blind as a bat, so to speak.

"Ohh, damnit! Im terribly sorry ol boy here let me help you. I shouldve been watching where i was going," you say a bit shakily.

"haha, i thought you were the type that always stays focused? what happened while i was gone?"

Wait a hot sparkling minute. You know that voice!

You pause your searching to let out a soft, "John?"

"duh, who else would it be. don't tell me you forgot your own partner, did you? that really hurts!"

You spring up excitedly, having found your glasses. You put them on a little slower than you anticipated. You give him the once-over, noticing the blood on both his hammer and his freshly dry-cleaned clothes. Where… where was he?

"here. i got 'em." He gives you a silly wink and a thumbs up, handing over the contract document with 3 names crossed off.

You don't care about the contract, really. You don't even care that he's covered in blood and dirt and grime. You grab his vest and pull him into a solid embrace. You're hugging him tightly and you can feel him struggling to breathe, so you loosen your grip, but definitely you do not let go. You fight back the happy tears welling up in your eyes and a final sentence escapes your mouth.

"…Dont ever scare me like that again, you silly fool."


End file.
